


A Joke

by turante



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turante/pseuds/turante
Summary: Sherlock tells a joke.





	A Joke

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the fourth bonus challenge on the Game is On lj community [here](http://thegameison-sh.livejournal.com/34224.html?thread=1451184#t1451184). So long ago...

It was a widely known fact that Sherlock Holmes could not hold his liquor well; or at least, not as well as the rest of them. The detective became inebriated halfway through his second cocktail, although, to be completely honest, John had mixed his signature drink – gin, triple sec, lime juice and brown sugar – a little too strong. Mrs. Hudson looked a bit flushed too, but that might have been because detective inspector Lestrade was sitting on the armrest of the chair she was in, close enough to touch – and the occasional pinch, John noted.

“This reminds me,” Sherlock intervened, à propos of something they had mentioned several minutes before, “of last week, when John and I were staking out the pub in Rivington Street waiting for the suspect,” he pointed at Lestrade, finger only trembling slightly, “who was supposed to be the barman on the late shift, when a man walked in with a slab of asphalt under his arm.”

John turned away from Sherlock and bit his hand trying not to laugh at his friend. He hadn’t noticed the exchange at the time and supposed that this was only an invention of Sherlock, because he was more likely to believe his flatmate capable of that kind of imagination than to accept it as the truth.

Anderson emptied his glass and started crunching the ice cubes, earning a glare from the self-centred narrator. “Well, he sits at the bar, turns to the barman and says, _'Give me a beer and one for the road.'_ ”

Embarrassed silence followed, broken only by John’s muffled hysterical laughter.

Mrs. Hudson got up and took the glass from Sherlock's hand. "I think you've had enough, dear," she said gently.

"But it really happened. Why does no one believe me? Is this some sort of joke?"

And Lestrade lost it.


End file.
